


Not that kind of Omega (How I met your Father)

by assassi



Series: Stony ABO Verse [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Betrayal, Fix-It, Getting Back Together, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 07:17:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15724596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassi/pseuds/assassi
Summary: "Kids, it was the year 2012 and uncle Nick had just decided that it was about time he told yet another group of important people that they are stupid and he’d do what he planed to anyway...."Tony and Steve tell the story of how they met each other, fought for each other, battled stereotypes and their own demons and finally had each other.





	Not that kind of Omega (How I met your Father)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is another take on the Stony ABO verse J In my first, Enough for a big man in a suit of armor, Tony was the Omega. In this version it’s Steve. The kids here are also named Sarah and Max like in EFABMIASOA but they aren’t twins – Sarah is older here. It’s a completely different story, so give it a try. There’s also a sequel that can be read after both EFABMIASOA and this story, so check it out, too. It’s called How the Starks do it ;)
> 
> A.N. 2 - I've been working on this for a while, but in the end I just wanted to finish and post it. If you see any mistakes let me know. Also, let me know if you liked the story :)
> 
> A.N. 3 - There is a smut scene. We will OF COURSE accept that it is just written for the readers and the sake of the plot but like good parents Tony and Steve DO NOT go into such details while telling the story to their children :D

_“Kids, it was the year 2012 and uncle Nick had just decided that it was about time he told yet another group of important people that they are stupid and he’d do what he planed to anyway. He claims that the Avengers Initiative is not his idea, per see, but it was invented by some of the Founders of SHIELD, namely your grandpa. Who was a little obsessed with Captain America. Because he knew him before I was even born, back in the time when daddy was genuinely 23 and just made Captain America. Of course, when your dad and I met he was still 23, thanks to being a Capsicle for decades…_

_“Tony!”_

_“Back to the Avengers! I blame your uncle Agent for being dramatic and suggesting the name and then it probably just… stuck.”_

_“Tony…”_

_“Right. So, your uncle Loki had just gotten his hands on a powerful weapon, that had made him all the more power-hungry…”_

_“You’re telling it all wrong.”_

_“Excuse you, no, I’m not!”_

_“Uh, yeah, you are.”_

_“Go on then, tell them your version!”_

* * *

Steve was angry.

Because that man was everything Steve hated! Arrogant and self-absorbed, cocky and irresponsible! He was ready to risk everyone’s life just to make a nice come-back. He was counting only on a flashy image and an ego to rival his father’s!

So Steve made his opinion known.

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I’ve seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself.”

And then, in a moment Steve could have thought he had imagined, he saw it. It was the briefest flash of a wince, only a hint of emotion. But it had been real, unlike everything else Tony Stark showed to the word.

And that one true feeling Steve had managed to wring out of Iron Man in the first moments of their acquaintanceship was a flash of pain, as those words somehow managed to break the façade and actually hurt the notorious playboy. 

And then the cocky smirk was back on, along with a witty reply that made Steve sure that he had imagined anything real and human in Howard’s son.

* * *

Steve was confused.

One moment he and Stark had been throwing insults in their faces and then the next thing he knew there was an explosion and they had teamed up to save everyone from what looked like a certain crash.

“Put on the suit.”

“Yeah…”

The suit _was_ impressive. Not that Steve would say it in Stark’s face – Lord only knew the man needed no other ego boosters. But it was a technology that Howard couldn’t even dream of, back in time. It was all sleek lines and grace that the artist in Steve admired to the point of pure fascination, in the back of his mind, the part that was not occupied with keeping enemies off Stark’s back while he worked on the engine.

But it was not the suit that made Iron Man as stunning as he was. It was the mind that operated the armor, the will, strong and unbroken by the many obstacles Steve had managed to glimpse in Stark’s file. It was the heart, damaged as it was, but always ready to fight for what was right, right to its very last beat.

It was a side so different from the image Stark was trying so hard to build for himself. Because he could have saved himself and let the ship fall, but he stayed and risked his life to bring the engine back to life.

And he could have waited for a back-up instead of flying, suit badly broken, ahead of all the others to face Loki alone, like the freaking solo-player that he was!

Steve grit his teeth. Back to being angry.

* * *

Steve was scared, confused, angry, hurting and frustrated. He wanted to scream but instead the one who roared was Hulk.

Brown eyes flew open and Tony took a shuddering breath.

“What! Whu-… Please tell me nobody kissed me!

Steve let out a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding back and laughed for the first time since being unfrozen.

Because only Tony Stark was capable of causing a freaking roller-coaster of emotions in a battle-hardened soldier who shouldn’t even be alive in this new age.

But for the first and not the last time Steve was glad that he was alive in Tony Stark’s time.

* * *

Steve was embarrassed.

Was Stark… Tony really flirting with him?

It was true that he didn’t really have much experience with dating or even having someone be interested in him but even he couldn’t have mistaken the lingering glances, the innuendos that made him blush like a maiden, the small gestures. Like piling up every possible kind of food in front of Steve while the team ate together in the tower where they now lived. After the first few times Tony even noted what Steve ate and what he didn’t touch and started providing mostly his favorite food, only adding this and that as an experiment to see what to add on that list.

And then there was the training room and punch-bags designed especially for Steve.

And the new tripod and canvas and a set of expensive brushes.

“Look, I know your game and it’s not gonna work”, Steve said bluntly.

Tony frowned, looking genuinely confused. “What isn’t?”

Steve scoffed. “Don’t play stupid. Or act as if I’m the fool. I’ve read about you. You’re used to getting everything you want. Everyone’s supposed to just roll over for the great Tony Stark, aren’t they? Well, I’m not that kind of omega and it’s not gonna work on me, so don’t waste your time.”

Tony’s frown had deepened as he stared at the table, fiddling with a napkin.

“Ouch. I always knew that my playboy years will come back and bite my ass one day. I guess I deserve that, on some level. But you got a few things wrong. Most importantly I’m not a big fan of stereotypes. Not all alphas are controlling, domineering bastards and not all omegas are meek, feeble and submissive. I don’t operate under those impressions and this is not alpha posturing. I’m not an alpha trying to impress an omega. I might, however, be trying to impress _you_.”

It was Steve’s turn to frown. “But you just said…”

“That I’m not after you as an omega. But I won’t pretend and hide the fact that I’m interested in you, as a person, not an orientation.”

Steve was too dumbfounded to react as Tony stood up slowly and gave him a last thoughtful look.

“I will never pressure you into anything, though. My cards are on the table but if you don’t share the sentiment, well… no means no to me. And I take that very seriously.”

And with that final note Tony left the room and the stunned captain.

* * *

Steve was impressed.

Now that he lived with Stark Junior he had the chance to get to know him a little, to see him in his element. Tony didn’t rule his empire like Howard, like Steve expected him to – like a demanding, controlling Alpha. He ran the business with grace, charm and a mind greater than his famous father’s. He interacted the same way with Alphas – Rhodey and Natasha, Betas – Pepper and Happy or Omegas – Steve himself. He could hire a whole army of cheerleaders in skimpy outfits, preening around them, and he could cook soup for a sick comrade – his cooking skills needed a lot of improvement, Clint admitted privately to Steve, but the gesture counted either way.

True to his word, he backed off and didn’t try to woo Steve anymore; he didn’t bother him anyhow. The problem was that Steve might have begun to fall for what he saw for himself.

* * *

Tony was devastated.

It looked like no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, history kept repeating itself. It was either Stark weapons killing innocents while Tony believed they helped their army, or another of his projects, created with the idea of everlasting peace and wreaking destruction instead. In the end it was one and the same. It was his good intentions leading to hell.

He had to fix it. Even if it meant risking more.

“Do you think this would work?”, Bruce wondered.

“It’s our last hope”, Tony muttered darkly.

He didn’t know it yet, but it would also be the last time he worked with Bruce for a really long time.

* * *

Tony was crushed.

It felt like a defeat no matter how Tony tried to look at it.

Sokovia was in ruins. They had lost one of theirs, a young life wasted because of Tony’s mistake. Yet another one. Bruce was gone and Natasha was left an empty shell of herself, right after she had finally opened up.

Vision was… not Jarvis.

And whatever ground he had gained with Steve was probably lost forever. Deservedly.

* * *

Steve was scared.

To be fair, he was even terrified.

Because judging by his symptoms his heat was about to hit in two days.

He gave a frustrated groan as another punching bag died a swift death. He needed another vent. Maybe a run in the park? But he already had a slight fever and even breathing felt like he was a scrawny asthmatic kid from Brooklyn again. By the same time tomorrow he’d be shaking like a leaf, freezing cold without an Alpha and so fucking needy for their touch. Another day and he’d be lost in the throes of heat, completely vulnerable and out of his mind.

He hated it. Hated the idea of it, the needy and pathetic nature of it. But what he hated even more, what he was genuinely scared of was the idea that he had to go through it alone.

He’d done it before, of course, but as he matured it was getting harder and harder to do it without a mate. He barely survived it the last time before the serum and even after that, the one heat he’d gone into before the ice, he’d needed a day to reboot and get back to being himself.

“You should ask for help”, Clint said, out of the blue, as Steve was gulping down yet another bottle of water in the kitchen, trying in vain to soothe the fire within.

“Hm?”, Steve frowned, already having trouble concentrating.

“You shouldn’t go into a heat alone. It can be dangerous.”

Steve’s frown deepened.

“I don’t exactly have anyone I can count on.”

Clint watched him thoughtfully for a second but he avoided his eyes when he said,

“You do.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Uh. I thought you were married.”

Clint frowned. “What? Yeah, I’m… what! No! Uh, I no offence but NO! I meant Stark!”

Steve’s jaw clenched. Clint didn’t give up.

“Look, I know he’s annoying and more often than not you want to just strangle him but… he’s not a bad choice. And believe me when I say this, you _need_ an Alpha to get you through this – sane and safe.”

He sounded like he really knew what he was talking about. In a way only a personal experience felt. Could he be…?

“Yeaaah”, Clint drawled. “It was hell, before Laura. It used to go on for days. My fevers were so high I had be locked up and put under medical supervision to make sure my brain doesn’t melt.” His smile was bitter. “After Laura”, his smile immediately softened, “it got reduced to just one day. It’s not that harsh. I’m not even all that feverish.”

Steve considered all that, hating himself that he did. He’d be a fool not to listen to advice from another Omega.

“I know that the hardest part is accepting that you need that help. You feel weak and gross and ashamed. But you shouldn’t, Steve. It’s nature. And it’s demanding balance. You have heats because you need a mate. And when you find a mate your heats are much more bearable. And when you find a mate you help them with theirs too. Balance”, Clint shrugged.

Steve knew as much. Alphas were generally drawn to Omegas and vice versa, where Betas mated to another Beta. And from what he had read an Alpha rut could be just as vicious as an Omega heat when spent without a partner.

* * *

Steve was running out of time – that much he was painfully aware of.

Quite literally painfully, he mused, as his body was wreaked with the first spasms of heat.

“Here”, Pepper said, offering yet another bottle of water and a painkiller.

“Thanks”, he muttered gratefully, squinting at the pills.

“Tony found them for my last heat. They’re very effective”, Pepper explained.

Right. Betas had heats as well, if not as severe as Omegas.

“He’s not a bad choice of an Alpha”, Pepper said.

“Not you too”, Steve groaned.

“I know Clint spoke to you. Listen to him because he’s an Omega as well as you, but listen to me because I’ve been around Tony the most. He’s flashy and selfish on the outside but he can be really attentive for those he lets in his inner circle; those he cares about.”

“He cares about you deeply. Why didn’t it work for you two then?”, he blurted before he could stop himself.

Pepper smiled sadly. “Many reasons. We work together, so there’s the tension from that. I’m a Beta and we all know it rarely works between Alphas and Betas. We’ve been around each other for too many years, being in different kinds of a relationship until we realized we were better off as friends. But most of all, I’m not his mate.”

Right. Theoretically, Alphas and Omegas had one possible true mate and their hormones, their heats or ruts only calmed when they found the One.

Stupid ancient beliefs. Betas were free to meet and choose their partner while anyone else had to what? Wait for Prince Charming? Pathetic.

Unless your Prince Charming was right under your nose, tinkering away into his workshop.

* * *

Steve was determined.

He took a deep breath and entered his personal code for Tony’s shop. Registering that, FRIDAY immediately lowered the thundering music which immediately led to Tony snapping his head up and looking around for the culprit. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Steve and his nose twitched. He gulped dryly, his hand gripping the screwdriver just a little bit tighter.

Steve knew what he saw and smelled: an Omega in heat. For what’s worth Tony stayed put, trying to keep a level head and hold back even when it was obvious that he was salivating and his pants had suddenly become tighter. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Um, hey Steve, what ar-…”

“Tony”, Steve panted. “I need… I need to ask you a favor.”

The genius visibly winced and took a step back.

“No.”

Steve felt that like a kick in his stomach. He flinched and Tony hurried to explain.

“Steve, I want to, _everyone_ would want to, but I can’t, b-…Cap. We shouldn’t… You’re too far gone.”

Oh.

If that was the only problem, Steve had come prepared. He lifted a sheet of paper.

“I just got examined. I’m still coherent and able to consent, you can check for yours-…”

Tony lunged forward and kissed him like a dying man, with all the relief of letting go after holding himself back for so long. After what felt like a lifetime, after they were both out of breath and lightheaded with the lack of oxygen Tony pulled back some and whispered brokenly over Steve’s lips,

“Promise me you really want that. With me.”

The blonde nodded vigorously.

“Just you.”

Tony wheezed out a weak moan, diving for another hungry kiss before he grabbed Steve’s hand in his own calloused palm and tugged him towards the elevator.

* * *

Somewhere in the back of his mind Steve was dimly aware that his non-heat self would hate this position – ass up, face in the pillow, impaled on his Alpha’s cock like the cheapest slut. But it was giving his body what it craved for, stars dancing before his eyes, eyes that were almost crossed with utmost pleasure. The alpha was good too, so good, hitting just the right places, just like Steve wanted it, firm and rhythmic and strong thrusts. Just like his mate.

Something flashed in Steve’s brain, a small alarm concerning his last thought, but it was overlapped by another demand to make sure his Alpha was having a good time as well. He looked over his shoulder. His Alpha’s face was caught in something between pleasure and pain, panting harshly, eyes burning with passion and roaming Steve’s broad back. And then their gazes met, half-lidded, intense. His Alpha’s breath hitched. He halted. Steve groaned, frustrated.

And then he was suddenly empty, crying out in distress until he was gently flipped on his back. The Alpha lifted one of Steve’s legs over his shoulder and wrapped the other around his waist, shielding himself back in a swift thrust, all the while staring at Steve. When he was balls deep again, he smiled, stilling for a moment.

“Hi”, Tony said.

“Hey”, Steve smiled back.

Sensing his need, Tony started a steady rhythm again, all the while his eyes roaming Steve’s face with pure wonder. His gaze kept pausing at his lips the longest and Steve finally got it – Tony was waiting for _him_ to initiate a kiss. So he leaned up and caught Tony’s lips.

Tony actually paused, his thrusts faltering until they stopped completely. Steve frowned, worrying he’d done something wrong, something unacceptable or just wasn’t good at kissing…?

Tony moaned helplessly and dove for another kiss, this one deeper, seeming as if he wanted to literally devour Steve. It went on for longer than it should, leaving them both breathless and lightheaded. They parted, gasping for air, Tony searching his eyes, then staring back at his lips. He dove back for another one, looking and feeling like an addict, like Steve’s lips were his own personal drug. Steve liked it; liked it a lot, actually, but his body demanded more, in other areas. He clenched around Tony’s dick, reminding him to get back on task. Tony gave another helpless moan, resuming his thrusts, now combining them with kisses.

“Always… so demanding. In battle. In bed. On top… or the bottom… always the Captain”, Tony rasped out, his smirk contorted with his passion.

If he could, Steve would probably grin smugly, but right now he was too busy chasing his orgasm…

* * *

It usually lasted at least three days for Steve. Now, it ended in just one day, just like Clint had described it. Steve knew what that meant as he stared down at Tony’s exhausted sleeping form with a throat that had suddenly gone dry.

Question was, were they both going to acknowledge it?

* * *

It was just after they had spent his heat together that everything went down.

Bucky.

Bucky had just started building up his life again when he’d been turned into someone else’s toy, someone else’s weapon. A pawn in a bigger game he hadn’t asked and didn’t want to play but had no choice. Again.

He wasn’t a murderer. He was a victim.

Tony… didn’t really get it. Not immediately. But what had been the final drop, what had really led to their clash was Steve’s own part in it.

_“Did you know…?”_

He had. Or he had at least guessed. He’d wanted to spare Tony the pain of finding out too. But that wasn’t how Tony saw it. So they fought. And the outcome didn’t look good for Iron Man.

Tony clenched his jaw, ready for the blow that would end him. He looked up… right into the tortured blue eyes. Steve’s face was twisted in pain. His hand shook as he made an aborted motion, as if reaching for Tony. But seeing Tony’s wary eyes, following the gesture as if still waiting for a final sentence, the blonde clenched that hand into a fist and squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to gather his strength. It must have worked somewhat because when he opened them again he looked determined. His voice was still shaky but he had made up his mind.

“I have to help Bucky. Make sure he’s safe. Then… if… if you can forgive me… if you’d still have me…”

His voice broke down as if he didn’t really believe that would be possible. He gulped dryly, stood up and ran after Barnes, leaving a broken mess of Tony Stark behind.

* * *

Bucky was safe, in a place where they could fix his mind and heal him.

And Steve….

Steve was pining.

He was the worst of scums. He’d played with Tony’s Alpha instinct to mate, protect and bond, really bond with someone. He’d taken advantage of Tony’s trust. And when he’d used that, used Tony for his own selfish needs and (let’s face it) pleasure, he’d left him, broken-armored and probably broken-hearted too. He didn’t deserve Tony.

But like the selfish bastard that he was, he still wanted him.

* * *

Another month passed.

Steve stared at the door blankly. When he’d decided to come here and beg Tony for forgiveness he’d thought he was ready for it. He’d swallow up his pride and fight with everything he had for that one chance for a life with his true mate.

His heart was racing. He wasn’t ready. What would he say? How would he even look him in the eyes?

The door was suddenly swung open and Tony, obviously in a rush to leave, almost collided with Steve’s stunned body. He faltered, hands still righting the collar of his expensive jacket, both staring wide-eyed at the other. The moment, the awkward silence stretched to a painful level where Steve was scared to even breathe, lest he break the moment.

Tony made a single step back. And Steve knew he had to act before the defenses, the walls were back up.

His gut twisted painfully and he felt his face burning red when he fell on his knees. He didn’t dare to look up. His mind was a jumbled mess and he didn’t know what to say. His hands clenched the fabric of his cargo pants. It was hard to breathe and his vision was narrowing down to a single spot…

To a pair of Armani clad thighs, kneeling right down in front of him. A hand was carefully put in his line of vision, letting him know it was there and it was going to touch him. Tony’s every move was slow and gentle. His fingers wrapped around Steve’s painfully clenched ones, unclenching them. Then he slowly put Steve’s hand over his own heart. The genius took an exaggeratedly deep breath, slowly breathing out.

It finally clicked. Steve’s brain finally registered what Tony was doing – he was bringing him back from a panic attack.

And it was working. Slowly, but it was working. Tony gathered Steve’s shaking form closer, wrapping him in a warm embrace. And for that stolen moment Steve allowed himself that vulnerability, unforgivable on the field but quickly stamped as a prejudice on every Omega. He was breaking down to everything society thought of his orientation. He was too weak to fight it right now. So he gave up, if only for that moment.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry”, Steve sobbed.

Tony didn’t promise it was alright or that they were okay. He stuck with the truth.

“You’re home. You’re alive and you’re safe. We’ll work on the rest.”

* * *

They did not work on anything. Tony went back to his shop and his projects and Steve… Steve was left roaming the halls of the tower like a ghost. It was so damn quiet. So empty.

Steve hated it.

* * *

Steve felt… weird.

It was a state he couldn’t really put his finger on. He was hungry like a wolf and then he was sick by the smell or even the idea of certain meals. He was full of energy and then he was drowsy and exhausted. The sun irritated him. Dusk made him melancholic. The lack of milk in the fridge made him angry enough to spend half an hour at the punching back.

On top of all that he was… horny.

He hadn’t expected things to miraculously work out between him and Tony. Not when they hadn’t really been friends, much less a couple - even before the Accords, Bucky and Siberia. They had only ever spend one of Steve’s heats together. He couldn’t expect them to be all cuddly and passionate now.

But he wanted to.

* * *

Tony was a mess.

He could deal with a lot of things – caves and terrorists and weapons and fucking aliens. But emotions? No, nope.

He knew Steve was somewhere in the tower, alone and trying to figure what they were to each other, where they stood in their relationship. Did they really have a relationship at all? Or was it just fuck-and-go? “Thanks for lending a hand (and a knot) with my heat”? But if so – why did he come back? Was he asking for a second chance or just asking for forgiveness?

Tony wasn’t ready to find out.

He wasn’t ready to face that and he wasn’t ready to give up on it either.

* * *

Steve was going crazy.

He was ready to claw off his own skin - he was that desperate for release. Taking care of himself didn’t do the trick. And it wasn’t just sex he was craving. He needed… touch. Simple, human touch. He needed to curl up on the couch next to Tony, or to feel his fingers ruffling his hair affectionately or a sympathetic pat on the back when something unexplainable agitated him once again.

He needed an Alpha. Worse – he needed his mate.

His blissfully unaware mate, who was always in his shop, never spending any time with the blonde. Steve felt all alone in that huge tower. And it was killing him.

* * *

Steve had made a decision. It was a tough one but he had no other choice.

“What are you doing?”

The voice behind him was cold and wary. But underneath all that – scared. Or maybe Steve was just imagining things now. He stood up and turned around. All of his belongings were stuffed in a single small bag behind him.

“I’m leaving. There’s no point lingering here anymore.”

“Why did you even come here?”, Tony asked with a hollow voice.

“I don’t know…”, Steve whispered, his throat painfully clenched around everything he wanted to scream in Tony’s face.

“So that’s it? You’re just giving up, leaving it all behind again?”, Tony hissed.

He was taunting him, Steve knew. But he took the bait anyway.

“You cannot give up on something that’s long gone.”

Tony’s face twisted in something that looked half-anger, half-desperation. His gait was full of purpose as he took the few steps separating them and grabbed the blonde’s face, crushing their lips forcefully. It was hard and punishing at the beginning but it soon softened into something more, something real. Something to hold on to. A promise.

Tony’s lips left Steve’s with a sigh and he looked up through long dark lashes.

“Is it really?”, he rasped out.

Steve shook his head dazedly.

It wasn’t gone. It was just about to begin.

* * *

Everything was a blur after that.

Clothes were discarded, torn away impatiently. Lips kissed and sucked and teeth bit hard, leaving possessive marks. Steve stumbled on his jeans, pooled around ankles and Tony chucked, before his own shins bumped into the bed and Steve leered, unceremoniously pushing him down on it.

It stopped being funny just a second after that.

As soon as Steve straddled him, Tony’s eyes flew wide open, scared. His hips bucked as if trying to throw off an attacker and his arms crossed protectively over his own heart and face, eyes now squeezed shut.

And then it hit Steve: their position now was the same as all those months ago when he dug his shield into Tony’s armor, breaking it. And that had been all that he’d meant to do, disarm Iron Man. But to an outsider, _to Tony himself,_ it could have looked like he had wanted to deliver a killing blow. Judging by his eyes back then that’s just what the genius had been preparing himself for.

And judging by his eyes now, he hadn’t forgotten; he was still waiting for that punch that would kill him.

Shocked and disgusted with himself, Steve crawled back, off Tony, off the bed, dragging a sheet around himself as he collapsed at the foot of the bed.

“Shit”, Tony muttered above him. There was a rustling sound and a moment later he joined Steve on the floor, another sheet around his groin.

“It…”, he sighed, jaw clenching as he prowled on, “it was muscle memory.”

“It was **_a_** memory. One we’ll always stumble upon”, Steve whispered, fighting down the stinging in his eyes. He’d embarrassed himself enough already.

“I said we’ll work on it. Not that it would be easy”, Tony said firmly.

Obviously, sex was _not_ how they should have worked on anything.

His hand landed softly on Steve’s sheet-covered thigh. Open-palmed. He’d be a fool to decline such an open invitation. His fingers crawled over Tony’s, feeling the gentle squeeze. Ever the Alpha, Tony was reassuring him, even when he himself was feeling vulnerable.

Tony rubbed his free hand down his face in a way that indicated he was about to propose something he didn’t like.

“Maybe we should see a therapist.”

If having Steve back in his life and truly letting him in hadn’t already proven how much Tony wanted them to work, this was the ultimate proof. That he was ready to fight for it, for this fragile thing they had and all of its potential. Because Tony hated psychiatrists with passion but he was ready to try even that if it would help them.

It was Steve’s turn to squeeze his hand gently. And fight back his tears even harder. Because he was not that kind of weak and whiny Omega and he would fight right there next to Tony.

* * *

Tony could ramble on for hours. He knew how to charm people, how to win a crowd, how to impress.

But talking about his feelings was not his forte.

Still, he prowled on, admitting that hiding from his problems in his workshop was his go-to method, even though it had never really worked out for him. It hadn’t worked out with Pepper and it certainly wasn’t working with Steve.

Steve, on his part, admitted that he’d thought Tony was avoiding him and regretted his decision to let him back in his life. He admitted that he regretted not telling Tony the whole truth about Bucky and his parents, regretted having to go against him and leaving him back in Siberia was one of his biggest mistakes.

The therapist said they were doing good and making great progress.

Since she only sat there nodding here and there, Tony thought therapy itself was bullshit.

But he sat there next to Steve and endured it for the sake of his mate and their fragile relationship.

* * *

Still, their most meaningful revelations were made in the quiet of their bedroom, facing each other on their bed. It was where they allowed themselves to go deeper, ask the real questions and reach the essence of their whole fall-out.

“It all comes down to one thing; always has”, Steve said. “You’ll never forgive me for not telling you about Zola and Bucky.”

“Why didn’t you?”, Tony asked quietly.

Steve looked away.

“Everything I believed in was a lie. Everything was in vain. I _died_ in vain. In a way, Natasha and I both did. We were literally buried under the wreaks of our ideals. Can you really blame me for not wanting to ruin one of the few remaining real things in my life?”

Tony was silent for a moment.

“If I didn’t forgive you, do you really think I’d have let you back in?”, he finally whispered.

Steve kept quiet. And Tony could have imagined it but the blonde snuggled closer.

“There’s something more you’re not telling me”, Tony urged.

Steve clenched his jaw, looking down stubbornly. Tony prowled on.

“I know you hate to be pushed and you won’t tell me until you and only you decide that…”

“When project “Insight” was engaged… and the helicarriers were up in the sky targeting Hydra’s every potential enemy… I saw one red dot pointing at Avengers Tower. At you. You have no idea what that did to me. You’ll never know the lengths I’d go to keep you away from that mess.”

“That’s part of why you didn’t tell me about my parents”, Tony guessed.

Steve gulped dryly, chancing a look at his mate.

“I knew you’d react emotionally. Who wouldn’t? And you were already targeted. I couldn’t let you be manipulated by that, leaving you weaker and vulnerable, distracted for attacks.”

“So you wiped out Zola and everyone from Hydra who could use it against me and decided to keep your mouth shut”, again, Tony filled that for himself.

“What you don’t know can’t hurt you”, Steve just said quietly then looked up again into Tony’s eyes, silently begging him to understand. “I didn’t _choose_ him over you. I just wanted to protect you.”

“Me or us both?”, Tony had to ask.

Steve smiled sadly. “Both. But I quickly realized he didn’t want that, not back then, when SHIELD fell and he played a big part in that - still brainwashed as was; not when he didn’t even know me. It was… it hurt a lot, Tony. Not even all the bones he broke while he was still trying to kill me, but seeing absolutely no recognition on his face while he was beating up mine. I’ve known those eyes my whole life. And he didn’t remember me at all.”

“I’m sorry”, Tony said, a bit surprised at how sincere he was.

It had hurt like a bitch to see Barnes kill his parents on that old tape and it hurt just as much that Steve had known and hadn’t told him. But now as time had passed he could see the other side of the coin and how much it sucked to have no control over yourself but still eventually remember everything you never wanted to do.

“I’m… not ready to face him yet. But I know that he’s away somewhere, probably Wakanda, probably getting his mind healed. I’m aware that he’s a big part of your life, of you, and he’d eventually be a part of _our_ life as well. I’m not ready yet but I’m working on it.”

Steve smiled gratefully, snuggling closer, hiding his face in Tony’s chest.

“I cannot even ask you that. But I love you so much more for it.”

* * *

Steve was nervous.

It was the worst possible time and completely absurd but once the idea had wormed its way inside his head it wouldn’t leave. And after the fifteenth time being sick in the morning he’d had enough.

He’d thought what the hell - he should check, right? It’s probably nothing and he and Tony would laugh about it later. Ha ha… ha.

Steve dropped the white plastic object.

With two red lines on it.

* * *

Steve was pacing nervously in the workshop, wondering how to bring it up. Tony, with his back turned to him and happily soldering away another something Steve had no idea about, sighed.

“Steve. You’re going to make a hole on the floor with all that pacing about. What is it?”

The blonde paused, taking a deep breath.

“…I’m pregnant”, he said, deciding it was better to be blunt. Before Tony could react he prowled on. “I realize we have not discussed the matter and children might not suit your lifestyle. I will not burden you anyhow. I am perfectly capable and prepared to do this on my own…”

Tony stood up abruptly and promptly left the room.

Steve clenched his teeth, schooling his face with a blank expression. He had promised himself he would not cry, no matter the outcome of this talk.

Because he was not that kind of omega.

* * *

It was three days later when FRIDAY spoke up to him, quietly, in the way she always did with him as if trying not to spook him.

“Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark has asked me to show you something.”

He hadn’t seen Tony these last three days. It was just like in the beginning, just as they’d actually started making some progress. Still moody about it, he followed FRIDAY’s instructions to an unused bedroom on Tony’s floor.

As soon as Steve stepped into the room the lights went on automatically, illuminating a cozy nursery. He noted the neutral colors, mostly white and pale gold, a stylish place yet giving a warm feeling, suitable for any child. He noted the old-fashioned cradle, looking oddly familiar, the teddy bear in it. This place wasn’t just done in a hurry or in a way that was made to impress rather than be comfortable. It was done with thought. With love.

He was just caressing the plushie when a soft voice behind him said,

“That was actually mine.”

Steve gulped dryly, still holding the toy.

“I, uh… I used to have a cradle like this, I think”, he muttered.

“I know”, Tony said, coming to stand in front of the blond.

“I thought you didn’t want this”, Steve said.

Tony’s jaw clenched, like he was preparing for a hard conversation.

“When you told me the other night I had to leave that room… or I was going to explode and say something really ugly. Not about the fact that we are going to have a child, but the way you told me. Steve, you can’t keep doing this to me. You say you believe I’m a different person than I used to be, with a very different ‘lifestyle’; you act like you believe that we are together in everything, and then you show up and tell me something that’s supposed to be the happiest news in my life and you say it like a slap in my face. Because no, Steve, you will not do this on your own, no matter how ‘capable’ or ‘prepared’ you are! You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to be a part of this! Because I want to! You don’t get to just shut me out and decide on your own!”

He looked straight into Steve’s treacherously watery eyes and his expression and his voice softened. He even smiled a little as he said,

“And stop trying to always be strong, soldier. It’s okay to let go, to be weak sometimes. At least sometimes, let yourself _be_ that kind of omega.”

Steve felt the tears fall down his face as his façade broke and Tony’s hands gathered him in a warm embrace. It was alright, he thought, sometimes; to be weak and vulnerable in your mate’s arms.

* * *

Later, as they were curled together on the floor of the nursery Tony suddenly asked,

“Steve? Do you know how far you are into it?”

“Hm?”, the blonde asked drowsily.

“I mean… we haven’t really… not since your last heat so…”

* * *

_“So I’m a heat baby!?”_

_“Yes. Yes, Sarah Marie, you are a heat baby.”_

_“Tony!”_

_“Ha! Hahahahah!”_

_“You shut up, squirt, for all you know you might be too!”_

_“Ah, no. Your brother was totally planned.”_

_“Haaaahahahhaha!”_

_“Tony, I swear to the Lord!”_

_“Anyway, back to the story…”_

* * *

Steve had resigned himself to his fate.

For the next six months he was going to be… gross.

Logically, he knew that apples, melon and soy sauce did not mix well but right now it was all beyond his power to deny himself anything. At least Tony didn’t make fun of him. Not after the last time he had caught Steve climbing the plum tree behind their house in Italy in 4 a.m. The fruits weren’t even ripe and Steve had looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Tony had gently talked him down the tree but had still indulged him in a handful of the still green plums (after checking if it was harmless for Steve and the baby). After that he had sworn that he’d provide Steve with any food he craved, no matter how weird or grossly mixed, as long as it was safe for both of them, so Steve didn’t have to hide or sneak in the middle of the night.

He looked up when Tony entered the cozy kitchen with more shopping bags.

“Here: pomegranates, cheese, olives, plums – ripe this time, melon, pears. Not to worry, I’ve also stocked up on your soy sauce. Picnic in the backyard?”

Their backyard overlooked the Mediterranean.

Steve beamed.

* * *

Getting away from the states had been one of Tony’s most brilliant ideas. Here, everything had its own, slower pace (at least in smaller towns further from the busy and dusty Rome). Sure, Italians were loud and energetic when they argued, cooked or loved, but they were also laid back and knew how to enjoy life.

It was exactly the change they had needed.

Steve took advantage of still not fully showing by walking around the small town, mingling, talking and soaking up everything. He knew that once his baby bump became more visible he’d be stuck at home. The house was cozy and comfortable and had a great garden with an amazing view and a pool but still – for as long as he could Steve indulged himself in interacting with people.

He was going to miss that in a couple of months.

* * *

When Natasha ended up on their doorstep Steve was already showing a bit. She took one look at the bump and then looked back up in his eyes. _“Do you want this? Are you happy?”_ She didn’t even have to voice that; they understood each other without words. He just nodded with a small, hesitant smile. Natasha smiled back.

They didn’t discuss it further. They just huddled together in the garden in silence, staring at the serene Mediterranean. 

There was a time, back when he was child, when he found the view of the ocean calming and beautiful. It used to be a small escape from the sad reality of war, sickness and poverty. As an adult, watching the ocean only brought up memories of ice and pain and freezing needles puncturing his lungs as he tried to keep breathing, even knowing that life was slipping away from his body. Once he’d woken up in this new age it had taken some time to stop feeling a wave of panic every time he so much as glimpsed any water surface. He’d thought he’d never be able to enjoy that view again.

But now he had that back, along with other things he’d given up after the war: his sense of piece, his dream of a family and a partner. His friends.

He glanced sideways at Natasha. He’d never be able to unravel her whole story and know all her demons. He never knew for sure but he had a feeling that having a family was a matter she didn’t want to discuss; whether she wanted kids but she couldn’t have them because of everything she had gone through back in the Soviet Union and all her severe training; whether she wanted them but she thought she wasn’t going to be a good mother due to her work; or wanted them but had no one to have them with; or didn’t want them at all. Steve didn’t ask. Especially after Bruce left, he felt like that was a sore subject he’d never bring up with Natasha.

She looked back at him and smiled.

“It’s getting colder. We should get back inside”, she said.

Steve sighed. The air smelled like the ocean and freshly cut grass out here and he was quite unwilling to be stuck in the house. He must have made a face when she had suggested it because Natasha shook her head with a fond smile and stood up, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“I’ll fetch you a blanket.”

* * *

“What’s the scariest part?”

Clint huffed a laugh, staring thoughtfully at his cup of coffee.

“Feeling helpless. Sorry to tell you but you get to feel that a lot. First – when they cry and you have no idea why. You’ve fed them, changed the nappy, sang a lullaby. As time passes, you learn to recognize each cry and what it means.”

“Really?”, Steve asked with disbelief. Clint chuckled.

“Yeah but it takes a lot of experience. Then they learn to walk. And they fall. And I’ve broken every bone in my body and it doesn’t hurt as bad as watching _your kid_ get hurt.”

Clint looked up, taking a note of Steve’s pale face.

“Hey. There are a lot of good things too”, he reminded. “Like their first smile. Baby laughter! Baby laughter can make you laugh along even after the worst day at work. Their first word. The way your heart does a funny little flip when they say ‘dada’ and then ‘daddy’…Yeah, that doesn’t get written in the baby books.”

Clint’s dopey smile dimmed a little as he noticed how tense Steve still was. He cleared his throat.

“Listen, Steve. I know we’re not really close but… you know you can come to me, right? You can ask, me or Laura or both. We’re here for you, guys. Even for Stark”, Clint smirked fondly.

Steve nodded. His shoulders were a lot less tense and his smile – a lot more real.

It was good to know that even after everything, they could still count on each other. They were more than just a team. They were a family.

* * *

There was a tense line to Tony’s jaw as he stared at his tablet. The frown on his forehead and his unfocused gaze hinted that he was calculating every possible solution to a problem but had not yet reached a completely satisfying answer.

Steve sat down on the couch next to him and handed him his coffee. Tony hummed his thanks, still distracted.

“What are you doing?”, the blonde asked.

Tony sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Asking Bruce for help. I don’… I can’t trust anyone else with you and the baby.”

“He doesn’t answer?”, Steve guessed.

Tony shook his head. “Not yet.”

Steve’s hand crawled over Tony’s, gently squeezing his fingers. Tony looked up at him, his expression still dark and worried.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something else. You’re not gonna like it. But we need to get back to the Tower, Steve.”

The blonde’s face fell and Tony hurried to explain.

“I know you like it here. As soon as the baby grows up enough to travel safely we’ll get back, I promise! But right now I need you as safe as possible, Steve! We’ve risked enough as it is. You’re especially vulnerable right now and open for attacks and this house was not made for that and it would take me ages to make it the fortress that the Tower already is. And before you say it, that’s not just my Alpha speaking, needing to protect his pregnant mate! The Tower also have a medical wing where we can track the pregnancy better and be prepared for anything, anytime…”

“Tony”, Steve interrupted him softly.

“Yeah?”, he answered weakly.

“Okay”, he nodded with a small smile.

“Okay”, Tony nodded back with relief.

* * *

It was a quiet night in Manhattan. Even the city that never slept looked uncharacteristically peaceful. Until…

“Tony.”

“Mmmh…”

“Tony.”

The gentle nudge became more insistent. Tony stirred, opening bleary eyes and turning around to face the obviously nervous blonde on the bed next to him.

“Wha’z’it?”, he yawned.

“Something’s happening”, Steve said carefully. He obviously tried to refrain from saying that something’s wrong and that got Tony on edge. He sat up, fully awake.

“Steve. What is it?”, he asked again.

“There was something…. I don’t know, like a flutter. I’m sorry, it’s probably just something I ate, even though I’m really careful these da-…”

“Oh my God”, Tony whispered, eyes wide and hands clenching the sheets.

“Tony?”, the blonde frowned.

“The baby moved!”, the genius exclaimed.

Steve scoffed. “No, it’s too early for that…”

“Excuse you, no, it’s not, and it starts like that! FRIDAY, baby book!”

A holographic screen opened right in the middle of their bedroom, making Steve wince and squint his eyes at it. Tony flipped through the pages of an e-book, finally finding what he was looking for with a victorious “A-ha!”

“See! It’s written clearly here!”, he pointed, zooming the paragraph.

“Okay, okay”, Steve surrendered fondly. He frowned again when his mate sprang up and began getting dressed. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, I’m not missing that, Capsicle! FRIDAY, new project! We’re finding a way so I can feel that too the next time!”

“Uh! Can’t it wait till morning?”, Steve asked with a small voice.

“But it just moved, Steve!”

“Since it moved inside me, I’m aware”, the blonde rolled his eyes.

“I literally just proved that to you so do not sass me”, Tony reminded, shaking his forefinger towards the ceiling as if proving a point while hopping around with his jeans half on and half off.

“I believe Captain Rogers is trying to convince you to stay and share this intimate moment, sir”, FRIDAY interjected.

Tony stopped hopping.

“Oh. Shit.” He turned around to face his mate. “Did I ruin it?”

Steve shook his head with a smile. “Just come back to bed.”

Tony did, with a resigned sigh and a muffled apology. Steve ignored that in favor of finding the most comfortable position nestled in Tony’s arms.

“You will feel it, you know? When the kicks become real kicks”, he smirked.

“Yeah, I guess”, Tony sounded resigned.

“I feel like I’m already living with a grown up baby”, Steve muttered.

“This grown up baby made you a baby.”

Steve winced even as his lips pulled in a reluctant smile. “Uh, that sounded so wrong. Go to sleep.”

“Can’t. You woke me. I’m wide awake now.”

“Uh…”

“Let’s discuss baby names! Mary? Clara? If it’s a boy we should call it James. We both have a best friend called James, ha! We’ll annoy them by telling them it’s named after the other one!”

“For crying out loud, go to sleep!”

* * *

“Well?”, Tony asked, looking hopefully at Steve.

Steve, who stared at the holo-screen with a frown and his arms crossed above his belly.

“We’re not buying Iron Man onesies!”

Tony scoffed. “Oh, but you agreed for the Captain-America-shield-night-light!”

“I said no Iron Man onesies!”, Steve growled, glaring at him.

“Uh! You’re so bossy and horm-…”

“What did you say!?”, Steve’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Tony vividly recalled how uncomfortable the couch in his workshop was.

“…I love you?”, he tried.

Steve’s glower softened somewhat. Tony took that chance, flicking to the next tab.

“Moving on! Look at that Black Sabbath t-shirt and imagine it with a pink tutu.”

Steve sighed.

“…You are never allowed to dress our daughter.”

* * *

Steve waited nervously by the elevator. He might have made a mistake. It was never wise to leave Tony unsupervised in a toy store but what could possibly go wrong with instructions as strict as Steve’s?

The door opened softly and Tony walked in, _dragging_ a huge bag, stuffed with toys.

“Steve! No, I know what you said but you weren’t there, Steve! Look at this!”

He began unloading his purchases, beginning with a fairy mobile, a whole set of Avengers plushies, an Iron Man helmet, a Captain America Shield rattle and an actual flying quinjet toy.

Steve sighed.

“I sent you for a few toys. _A few_.”

“But think ahead, Steve! The kid would never be bored with a toy, she’d have a new one every day!”

Steve’s brow twitched. “How many did you buy?”

Tony winced guiltily. “They, uh… they’re unloading the truck right now.” 

“Tony!”

* * *

Steve clenched his teeth, trying to hold back the scream of pain. Now was not the time to be weak. He had to be strong, he had to keep it together; for his child’s and his mate’s sake.

Because right beside him, Tony was losing it.

“Oh my God, oh my God! Where are the medics?! Where’s Bruce!? The fuck is taking them that long!? He’s in pain, can’t you at least give him something for the…?!”

“Tony”, Steve hissed.

Brown eyes were immediately drawn back to his.

“Yeah, babe, what is it, what do you need, what can I do, just talk to me, baby…!”

“Hand.”

“Huh?”

“Need. A hand. To hold on”, Steve wheezed.

“You got it, babe, here!”, Tony said, grasping his hand. Steve held on as another contraction wreaked his body. There was a sickening crunch and Tony winced. Steve drew back, ready to apologize. Tony shook his head.

“Nope, no, I got it, here!”, he summoned a gauntlet around his hand and caught Steve’s own fingers again with a smile that was only a little pained. “Here, hold on.”

There was another crunch and Tony frowned a little, summoning another gauntlet around his left hand, changing places with his right one, disarming the broken gauntlet on the floor.

“Keep them coming, FRIDAY! Hold on, babe, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay!”

“I’m here, I’m on it!”, Bruce called, rushing in the surgery and trying for a reassuring smile. “Let’s have a baby.”

* * *

Tony looked down at the bundle in Steve’s arms with such openly awed adoration that Steve fell in love all over again, in both of them. There were tears running down Tony’s face and Steve half-teased him, asking if they were from happiness or from his broken hand. Tony huffed a laugh and just kissed his brow.

“Sarah”, he suddenly said. “Sarah Marie. What do you think?”

Steve looked up in his eyes, his own blue orbs blurry as his chest tightened painfully.

“I love it”, he whispered back.

* * *

**_Five months later…_ **

“Are you completely sure that it’s okay to be running 5 miles already? Forget the fact that you wake up at the crack of dawn, you just brought a little being into this world! You’re allowed a break, Steve!”

Tony rocked their daughter gently as Steve walked out from the built-in closet, freshly showered and with only sweatpants, holding a tee in his hand.

Sarah squealed and Tony sighed.

“Yep. This is your daddy. He’s got a six-pack just a few months after giving birth to you because he’s unfair and ridiculous like that.”

Steve grinned, mock-slapping his ass as he passed by.

“Not bad yourself, Stark”, he winked, bending down to pull on his socks.

Tony’s eyes lingered. “Let’s have another one.”

* * *

_“And that, kids, is how I met your Father.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Tony coming back from the toy store was inspired by own Dad :D When I was born Mom sent him to buy a few toys. He came back with 40. She counted :D


End file.
